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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27021547">I am Not Afraid of Hubert von Vestra</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbow_Volcano/pseuds/Rainbow_Volcano'>Rainbow_Volcano</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Denial of Feelings, Dorothea is a bro, Enemies to Lovers, Ferdinand is so dumb you guys please help him, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Ferdinand von Aegir, Pining, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Rivalry, oh Ferdie, secretly mutual pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:20:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,983</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27021547</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbow_Volcano/pseuds/Rainbow_Volcano</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“The sound of his voice, the feel of his breath down my neck, Dorothea, it…it did make me shiver.”<br/>She cocks her head to the side. “So you, were scared?”<br/>“No! No, I—” I stuff my face into my hands. Goddess.<br/>“I wanted him to do it again.”</p><p>Ferdinand von Aegir is not afraid of Hubert von Vestra. But, then, why does he find himself staring at him all the time? And why can't he make eye contact? And why does he jump at Hubert's slightest touch? There is only one way to solve this issue: confront Hubert about it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I am Not Afraid of Hubert von Vestra</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I am Ferdinand von Aegir, and I am not afraid of Hubert von Vestra.</p><p>None of my classmates believe me. I have been working tirelessly for nearly a moon trying to change my image. Caspar and Edelgard like to laugh at me, Dorothea thinks I’m pathetic no matter what I do, and neither Bernadetta, Linhardt, nor Petra seem to care.</p><p>Hubert is objectively unnerving, certainly, but I am not <em>afraid</em> of him. He has many secrets, and perhaps literal skeletons in his closet (something I’d like to prove if only it didn’t mean sneaking into his room), and a perchance for the unsavory. And he has a presence about him that commands your attention. Any time he enters a room, he draws your eyes directly to him. I can’t help but think it must be bad for Edelgard, to be always undermined by her vassal, but no one else seems to understand my point.</p><p>The only one who believes me is Professor Byleth, but the professor refuses to help me, either. They always say vague things like, “Take your time” and “The truth will reveal itself.” The advice is worse than my father’s, who tells me things like, “proper nobles have proper attitudes.” I <em>know</em> all of these things already. I don’t need to know how to be the perfect noble. I need to know how to convince my classmates Hubert doesn’t frighten me.</p><p>I tell them repeatedly, but still they do not believe. There is but one thing for it. If the professor cannot help me, I must go to the source: Hubert himself.</p><p>I find him on the bridge to the cathedral, watching the sky. It is one of his favorite places to be, if he is not stalking Edelgard. He stands with his gloved hands on the stone railing, and he seems oddly at peace. I cannot help but think he’s imagining the horses plummeting from the sky. It would be fitting for a villain like him.</p><p>“Hubert,” I say, approaching. He turns, and immediately his face contorts with disdain. I imagine mine must mirror his. “May I speak with you?”</p><p>He sighs, turning to face me. His obsidian hair obscures his right eye, his less threatening one, and hangs like a curtain across his face. Only ever allowing anyone to see half of him at any moment.</p><p>“If you must,” he sighs. “Your presence ruins otherwise peaceful days.”</p><p>I wonder what sorts of days count as ‘peaceful’ for a villain. Days with immense bloodshed? Days with manipulation and torture? Hubert loves toying with everyone, but he is especially fond of manipulating me. Rather than frightening, it is endlessly irritating.</p><p>“I have come to announce that I am not afraid of you. And that I would appreciate any rumors stating otherwise to cease.”</p><p>He rolls his eyes. They’re a flaxen-gray color, as if yellow from the sun perished and its corpse lingered in his eyes. “I care not,” he states. “Fear me or don’t. It is not up to me if others believe one way or another.”</p><p>I clench my fists. “Surely there’s something you can do. Negligence is ill-advised for the future-Emperor’s vassal.”</p><p>He whips his head to me, his visible eye gleaming. He stares at me, into me, but I do not back down. I am Ferdinand von Aegir, and I cannot be intimidated by irritating knaves.</p><p>Then, suddenly, he laughs.</p><p>His laughter is deep, cackling, mischievous. For his chuckles, he tilts his head ever so slightly downwards, bringing his shoulders up and laughing into his chest. But this is different. His head is up, towards the sky, and he lets his laugh fill the air around us. Several fliers stop, unnerved, and look to Hubert with fear.</p><p>But this laughter is so unexpected, so free, that it stuns me. It sends warmth creeping into my cheeks.</p><p>“Negligence?” he asks. He has no eyebrows (perhaps he singed them off in a dark ritual, or perhaps he drank a potion that prevents them from growing), but his brow-ridges are prominent. They’re high on his face, lighter and higher than I’ve ever seen them. “Only you would call ignoring baseless rumors ‘negligence’. It’s clear you do not fear me, so what could you possibly—”</p><p>He takes a step towards me as he talks, but with that step, he is much, much closer. I don’t want him to see the heat in my face. I don’t want it to be there. I turn my head towards the cobblestone at our feet.</p><p>“Oh?” he asks. He takes another step towards me. I take half a step back. “What’s this now?”</p><p>“I am tired of looking at your face,” I lie. I wish it were true. I wish I could tire of looking at him.</p><p>He hums, clearly not persuaded. It’s unbecoming of a noble to lie, so I don’t do it often. Which must make me a poor liar.</p><p>He walks around me, and I refuse to meet his gaze, but I also refuse to take any more steps. His laughter was unsettling, surprising, and now I don’t know what to do. Perhaps I should tell him how ridiculous his laughter is.</p><p>Suddenly, he’s behind me. It’s the worst place to find Hubert.</p><p>“If you’re not afraid of me,” he begins. His words tickle the hairs at the back of my neck. Everything becomes warmer.</p><p>“Then why are you shivering?” he whispers.</p><p>Instantly, <em>instantly</em>, I shiver.</p><p>I can feel his breath, hot at my neck, and feel it slip through the collar of my uniform. It travels down to my shoulders, to my back, where it catches opposite my lungs. I can feel his height, his hair, his nose, his right hand as it hovers near my shoulder.</p><p>Fury courses through me.</p><p>How dare he. Toying with me, taunting me, as if he thinks he is better than me. What has become of me? I am Ferdinand von Aegir! And I am not afraid of Hubert von Vestra.</p><p>So why <em>did</em> I shiver?</p><p>And why…don’t I want to stop?</p><p>No, no, this is ridiculous. Preposterous. This is not happening. It <em>can’t</em> be. Can it? No, of course not. Please, goddess, tell me this is not happening. I couldn’t stand it if any shred of me actually, twistedly, <em>wanted</em> any of this. I detest Hubert more strongly than perhaps anyone else I know. I always have. I always will.</p><p>Won’t I?</p><p>I wrestle from Hubert’s proximity, and turn around to face him. His smirk looms above me. Always taunting me.</p><p>I do what any self-respecting noble would do when their world suddenly turns upside down.</p><p>I run.</p>
<hr/><p>I pound against Dorothea’s door. She’s the only one who understands things like this. I can only hope she’s here. When she answers, relief washes over me.</p><p>“Dorothea,” I say, panting. “Thank the goddess. I need your help.”</p><p>She gives me a disbelieving look. “You? The great Ferdinand von Aegir? Need my help?”</p><p>“Please,” I insist. “I have no one else to turn to.”</p><p>She looks at me a little bit more. “Are you alright, Ferdie? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”</p><p>“I may as well have. Well, felt one, I suppose. Met one?”</p><p>“What?” She opens the door and gestures me in. “Sit down, you look like you might pass out.”</p><p>I thank her profusely before letting her lead me to a chair. I settle into it, feeling the adrenaline stinging in my legs. “I apologize for the intrusion, but there’s no one else I can rely on.”</p><p>She blinks at me, astonished. Have I said something astonishing? “Are you feeling okay? Do I need to get Professor Manuela?”</p><p>“No, there’s no need. I must thank you again. Nobles should be supporting commoners, not the other way around.”</p><p>She rolls her eyes and scoffs. “I guess you’re fine after all. This commoner was going to make you some tea, but I wouldn’t want to insult you.”</p><p>I’ve offended her. How could I have forgotten so easily, she becomes irritated at the word ‘noble’. I truly am frazzled. “My apologies. Tea would be lovely, thank you.”</p><p>She rolls her eyes again, but goes to brew a pot. I didn’t think she would let me get this far. I thought she was always angry at me. But I’m glad to know her anger has its limits, and that our camaraderie as classmates matters more than whatever her personal gripes against me are.</p><p>She comes over with the pot and two cups. She pours mine first, and then her own, and I breathe in the scent. Chamomile. A calming, soothing tea that settles upset minds. Not either of our favorites, which means she brewed it specifically for me. I must look a fright.</p><p>After a few sips, she asks if I’m feeling better, and I tell her that I am. Are there problems tea cannot solve, or at least mitigate?</p><p>“Now,” she says, “why did you barge into my room, white as a sheet?”</p><p>I set the tea cup on the saucer. “You see, in the courtyard just now, Hubert came up to me and started trying to pick a fight.”</p><p>She raises an eyebrow. “Mhmmmm.”</p><p>I sigh. “Fine, alright, I approached him.”</p><p>I skip over the part where we bickered, but emphasize that I was not, at any point, afraid of him. She alternates between listening intently and rolling her eyes at me.</p><p>“Then he laughed. It startled me. Hubert has laughed before, of course, but this laugh was different. It made me feel…”</p><p>“Scared?” she offers. I shake my head.</p><p>“One would think! I personally don’t find him unnerving, but objectively, he’s a frightening fellow, is he not? Eerie, ominous, macabre?”</p><p>She furrows her eyebrows. “I suppose…”</p><p>“Anyways, after the laugh, I refused to make eye contact, and he thought I was scared. I assured him I was not. You believe me, don’t you?” She nods, and I actually think she does believe me. I wonder if she’s believed me this whole time? “After assuring him I was not afraid, he approached from behind me. He leaned in close to my ear, and he, Goddess, he whispered, ‘If you’re not scared, why are you shivering?’”</p><p>The memory brings heat into my face, and I sip more chamomile. It doesn’t help much. It’s cooled down, so I take a huge gulp. “The sound of his voice, the feel of his breath down my neck, Dorothea, Goddess, it…it did make me shiver.”</p><p>She cocks her head to the side. “So you, <em>were</em> scared?”</p><p>“No! No, I—” I stuff my face into my hands. <em>Goddess</em>.</p><p>“I wanted him to do it again.”</p><p>I wait for her to do something, to say something. Vomit in disgust? Laugh in my face? Chug the rest of the tea pot and spit it all over me? I almost feel that I deserve all of those to happen. It would certainly make me feel better. I feel as if I’ve committed a crime, reacting to Hubert the way I did, and if I receive punishment I can repent.</p><p>Finally, she releases a soft “Ohh.” She sucks in a breath through her nostrils. “Oh, <em>no. </em>Ferdie, no no no. Oh, <em>Ferdie</em>.”</p><p>“I know!” I cry. “I am aghast and ashamed!”</p><p>“Ferdie,” she admonishes.</p><p>“Oh, I bring dishonor to the von Aegir name!” I moan. “My great-grandfather would be rolling in his grave.”</p><p>She sets her tea cup on the table, and it reminds me we have tea. I pour myself another cup and sip as much as I dare. The fresh cup is steaming hot, but so is the rest of my body.</p><p>“Well, hey,” she says. “Times are changing. I’m into both guys and girls.”</p><p>“Oh, so am I. But…<em>Hubert?</em>”</p><p>She shakes her head, and takes another sip. “Are you sure you’re attracted to him? I mean, maybe you really are just scared of him.”</p><p>“I am not afraid of Hubert von Vestra.”</p><p>She takes a long sip of tea, draining the entire cup. She settles it back onto the saucer with her pinkie extended as a cushion. She truly does know proper tea etiquette; I shouldn’t have been so harsh on her.</p><p>She’s silent for a while longer, and it’s unbearable. At last, she takes a deep breath, then looks straight into my eyes. “Then, Ferdie, I got some worse news for you: you might be in love with him.”</p><p>Instantly, nausea pours into my stomach. The idea, the thought, the insinuation is repulsive. “That’s the most ridiculous, insulting thing I’ve ever heard.”</p><p>“Hold on—”</p><p>“No, that’s impossible. That’s idiotic! I am Ferdinand von Aegir.”</p><p>“Hear me out. You’re obsessed with the guy. You can’t stop talking or thinking about him. You just admitted you’re attracted to him. And there’s nothing wrong with that! Hubert’s an attractive guy! Mysterious, sharp cheek bones, I don’t blame you!”</p><p>I shake my head. “No, Dorothea, what you are suggesting is out of the question. This is…” I hesitate. What exactly am I feeling? “Merely a phase.”</p><p>She is skeptical. “A phase?”</p><p>“A phase.” I say it, and it feels a bit like the truth. It’s comforting. “Attraction and love are two very, very different emotions. I assure you, the two emotions are not even remotely related. He is objectively handsome, but there is nothing more to it than that. Once I take care of these feelings, they will be gone, and I can resume resenting him unrestricted.”</p><p>“Hmm,” she says. “I’m not so sure about that.”</p><p>“Please, it is the only possibility.” I stand, but she does not rise to meet me. “I know what must be done now. Thank you for the tea and guidance.”</p><p>“Ferdie, wait!” I pause at the doorway. She’s still seated, but she looks concerned. “You should give yourself some time. Don’t do anything rash, alright?”</p><p>I sigh. “Perhaps you are right.” She leans back in her chair, and shakes her head at me. Just as I close the door behind me, I catch her whisper, "Oh Ferdie".</p>
<hr/><p>A week goes by, and despite attempting to remove the feelings every night, they still remain.</p><p>I asked the professor for advice once again, and once again they were entirely unhelpful: “You have to feel through your feelings.” Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean.</p><p>I have not spoken with Dorothea again; I am afraid she will tell me that she was right, and she is emphatically <em>not</em> right. She is smart, and she is sharp, but she is not right.</p><p>It is getting worse, I’m afraid. With the professor and Dorothea in my head, I can’t so much as look at Hubert without remembering his breath trickling down my neck. Occasionally he will catch my gaze and then smirk, taunting me. It is his favorite thing to do, act superior to me. I cannot wait until I can resent him freely again.</p><p>I wander around the monastery, thinking of ways to prove that I am not inferior nor afraid, when I walk straight into Hubert himself.</p><p>He glares down at me, and I start to apologize before clamping my mouth shut. He does not deserve any apologies from me.</p><p>“Well, look who it is,” he says coolly.</p><p>I glare at him. “It is I, Ferdinand von Aegir.”</p><p>He rolls his eyes at me. “I <em>know</em>. Do you ever tire of announcing your own name?” Father always told me to announce myself often. He said it commanded respect from your peers, and created camaraderie. He and his guests used to fawn over me when I announced myself at dinner. Now suddenly, here, it is just one more thing I am doing wrong. One more thing Hubert will use to taunt me.</p><p>I’m looking at the ground. I don’t know that I care enough to fight Hubert on this. He is tall in real life, taller than in my imagination, and he is lanky and practical and irritating. I think a nap or a ride may be in order. And I haven’t finished sorting out all my extraneous, frivolous emotions yet.</p><p>“You’re refusing to meet my gaze again,” he says. “I see. You’re afraid of me.”</p><p>Suddenly my exhaustion is gone. What sort of sorcery is he using on me, to zap and surge my energy at will? What sort of shadowy arts does he practice in the dark hours of the morning, when no one else dares lay awake, what sorts of curses and plots does he plan? The thought, not as unsettling as it should feel, angers me.</p><p>“It is not fear,” I assert.</p><p>He scoffs. “Isn’t it?”</p><p>“It’s <em>not.”</em></p><p>“Tell me, Ferdinand, if you are not <em>afraid</em> of me, then how do you feel about me?”</p><p>I gulp. I don’t know if I want to understand what I’m feeling. And even once I do, why should I tell Hubert? This is obviously a mere phase. One laugh and one moment of close proximity mean nothing.</p><p>“Well?” he prompts. “If you are not afraid, why do you avert your eyes? Why do you always throw paranoid glances at me? Why do you jump at my slightest touch?” He quirks up an eyebrow ridge. “Why do you quiver when I whisper in your ear?”</p><p>“I…I cannot tell you.” I chide myself.</p><p>He looks frustrated. “If you refuse to tell me, I have no choice but to assume you fear me. I’ve intimidated you into silence, it seems.”</p><p>“No,” I insist.</p><p>“I cannot draw any other conclusions given the evidence.”</p><p>“I do not fear you, but I will not tell you how I feel.”</p><p>“Then I will assume you fear me,” he says, bored. He’s become indifferent. I suppose I’m no longer fun to toy with.</p><p>“You know the truth, Hubert.”</p><p>He jolts. “Do I?”</p><p>I smirk. At long last, now I am the one backing him into a corner. “If you claim to be so sharp and observant, surely you know the truth. You are bluffing, Hubert von Vestra. You have never once frightened me and you know it.”</p><p>He blinks at me. Then he laughs. It’s a cackling, mischievous laugh that sounds like it should be evil. But for some ridiculous reason, it doesn’t. It sounds nice.</p><p>“You never cease to amuse me, Ferdinand. At your side, I should never want for entertainment as long as I live.”</p><p>The thought, of the two of us, side by side, for decades, does not sit well with me. It thrusts blood into my cheeks and nausea into my stomach. I had not considered such a possibility. Yet he must have, clearly. He said it to see my reaction. Even now, he is toying with me. So quickly do we gain and lose upper hands every time we speak. It is dizzying.</p><p>It is exhilarating.</p><p>I hate him for it.</p><p>“I am afraid you will have to go without entertainment,” I scoff. He is annoying, and relentless, and I should think he deserves to be bored out of his skull.</p><p>“You would wish me to spend my life alone?” Imagining him with a wife is laughable. What kind of a woman would marry an egomaniac like Hubert?</p><p>“You will always have Edelgard,” I tell him. He’s said devoting himself to her was all he required for satisfaction from life. Who am I to deny him?</p><p>“True, and I always thought that would be enough for me,” he muses. ‘Thought’, past tense?</p><p>“And now?” I ask.</p><p>“And now, I wish to know how you feel about me.” He says it with an odd hesitation. The words sound uncomfortable, like they were uncomfortable all the way from his mind to his mouth. He doesn’t like this.</p><p>“I see, you are not used to people finding you benign.”</p><p>He smirks. “Indeed I am not. But I admit there is a more…sinister reason.”</p><p>“Sinister? Everything you do is sinister. You drink your tea sinisterly. You go to bed and wake up sinister.”</p><p>“So you’re not interested in my other reason? You’re not the least bit curious?”</p><p>I roll my eyes. “Clearly you are baiting me. Should I want to know?”</p><p>“Possibly,” he says, with a bit of a shrug. “It concerns you, after all.”</p><p>I grit my teeth. “Well, now you must tell me.”</p><p>He scoffs. “Why should I?”</p><p>“Moments ago you seemed very eager to tell me, and now you are suddenly standoffish?”</p><p>“I could say the same of you. You approached me in quite a huff, I can only assume you intended to tell me the truth. But then you were frightened.”</p><p>“I told you, I was not—” I sigh. This is going nowhere. And he is right. I was frightened. Telling off an imaginary Hubert in my room was much easier than talking to him is now. In my imagination, he is not staring into me with flaxen eyes and breathing on every inch of exposed skin. (Well, maybe sometimes he is. But I conjure and dissipate those at will. I cannot control the one in front of me). “Fine then. I propose a trade: I will tell you how I feel, and you will tell me your sinister secret.”</p><p>He stares at me, assessing something. I do not know what he is looking for. I hold out my hand. “Do we have a deal?”</p><p>He shakes my hand, and though we are both wearing gloves, I can feel the heat from his body seeping into mine. I am almost disappointed when he drops his hand.</p><p>“Well, go on then,” he urges.</p><p>“Wha—Me?”</p><p>“You <em>are</em> Ferdinand von Aegir, are you not?”</p><p>“Hmph. Seems to me as though you are afraid of sharing your secret.”</p><p>He shrugs. “Perhaps. But I won’t tell it to you without your information first. Afraid or not, it matters not. You learn nothing by being a coward.”</p><p>“I am. No. Coward!”</p><p>“Aren’t you though? You’re stalling as we speak. Seems to me like you’re all talk, disappointing, really, laughable, how pathetic and unfit yo—”</p><p>I do not let him finish. I slam my mouth into his.</p><p>He yelps, actually yelps, like I have stolen something from him. He starts to push back, but I am not done proving that I am nothing like he says I am.</p><p>I push him more, and he takes a step back, then another, until he’s pressed up against the bricks. Perfect. Here, he is at my mercy. I am in control. I will not let him say another word. I will show him how unafraid I am.</p><p>I wasn’t exactly intending for <em>this </em>to happen, but Hubert can’t have been expecting it, either. Which means I get the upper hand again.</p><p>Oddly, despite being under my thumbs and against the wall, he begins to soften. It feels like a trap, but suddenly I can taste him. Black coffee, not surprising, he drinks enough of the stuff that it is probably coursing through his veins in place of blood. And, is that a hint of cinnamon? I didn’t know he liked cinnamon. It feels too sweet, too innocent, for an unsavory shadow like him, but the more I taste of it on his lips, the more it makes sense. It’s a potent spice, one you must be prepared for. A little bit of it can be too much if you’re not careful.</p><p>Coffee and cinnamon, from his mouth into mine, and I can feel his lips and his cheeks and his breath, breathing all over me and into me. I keep expecting him to try and fight it. He should. Why isn’t he? Why is he <em>melting</em>?</p><p>I’ve fallen into his trap.</p><p>I jerk away, shoving him at the wall. He’s already pressed against it, so the shove mostly goes into his arms. He <em>wanted</em> me to do that, the sinister philistine. But why? How is he toying with me now? How will he use this against me?</p><p>His eyes are half-lidded. The bastard has the audacity to look dazed of all things. <em>Dazed</em>. He is an uncanny actor.</p><p>“Now,” I pant, breathless. How dare he do this to me. “Tell me your sinister secret.”</p><p>He smirks—no, he <em>smiles</em>. It is almost warm, dare I say…fond? He has no right to look at me so fondly after baiting me into a trap. I didn’t even know his face was capable of looking so soft. His cheekbones are so sharp, surely the rest of him could never be gentle.</p><p>He chuckles, then leans in to my ear. I catch my breath in my throat.</p><p>“Are you sure you want to hear it?”</p><p>I swallow. “Y-yes. I am sure.”</p><p>He comes even closer, lips grazing my inner ear. It’s driving me mad. His breath as it trickles out his nose goes straight into my ear, and it pulsates throughout my body. Suddenly I’m beginning to regret my bold choice. I am clenching everything, braced, tight, anxious. I am not afraid of Hubert von Vestra, but I think I just kissed him.</p><p>I close my eyes. I wish I could see his expression, but he has me pinned in his arms. He sucks in a breath. “I have been wanting to do that for a long time.”</p><p>The aftershock of his breath reverberates in my ear, and shivers down my spine.</p><p>Then I realize what he said.</p><p>My eyes shoot open, I turn to him. His expression is indeterminant, unreadable. I cannot tell if he is earnest or toying with me again. I am inclined to believe the latter.</p><p>“Something wrong?” he asks, light and sarcastic. So he <em>was</em> toying with me.</p><p>I should have known. I should have known all of this was his evil plots and his mocking and his arrogance. I don’t know why Dorothea or the professor let me believe anything different. I don’t know why I let myself believe anything different.</p><p>I laugh. “You cannot be serious,” I say, pushing my way out of his arms. He furrows his brow-ridges. Either he is troubled or plotting something. “You make no secret of how much you hate me.”</p><p>“You’re the one who kissed me, Ferdinand.”</p><p>It is good that I am already blushing, so he can’t see that he just made me blush even more. I am angry with him now. I suppose I am always angry at Hubert, but the fiery anger with sparks has cooled into a sinking igneous rock in my stomach.</p><p>“I simply…I was merely…” I am not flustered, I just cannot find the words. How do I justify something as bold and stupid as a kiss with <em>Hubert</em>?</p><p>“Afraid?” he sneers. It makes my blood boil.</p><p>“No! For the <em>thousandth</em> time: <em>No.</em>” I shake my head. I cannot believe him. How can he stand here, having just been kissed, and still have the gall to not believe me? “This was merely something I had to get out of my system,” I tell him, and I am pleased to find that it feels like the truth. “Now that that’s over with, I have no feelings for you other than contempt.”</p><p>Hubert quirks a brow ridge, then he smirks. “Entirely out of your system, is it?”</p><p>“Entirely.”</p><p>To my astonishment, he chuckles. “You’re not a very good liar.”</p><p>“You would know, wouldn’t you?”</p><p>“Alright then, how about we make another deal? If it is all out of your system, if it just a phase, then you won’t think of that kiss ever again. And in 5 years, you’ll have forgotten it even took place.”</p><p>“I will happily take that bet.” I declare. “When I win, what do I receive?”</p><p>“Peace of mind, I assume.”</p><p>“Seems paltry. And if you win?”</p><p>“Then I should think I’ll have entertainment for the rest of my days.”</p><p>I don’t know how much of this he’s truly invested in. A Vestra never makes a bond they don’t intend to keep, but Hubert is crafty. ‘Entertainment’ could mean a number of things: blackmail, torture, extortion.</p><p>Marriage.</p><p>But he is glaring down at me with his most piercing eye, and the other one is shaded by a curtain of obsidian hair. He means to intimidate me. He means to force me to back out, to stand down. I refuse.</p><p>“Very well then. I accept your terms. I will forget this ever happened, and have peace of mind. On the impossible occasion that I don't, you may have me as entertainment.”</p><p>He’s smirking again, the bastard. Goddess I want to slap that smirk right off his cheek. “Careful, von Aegir. I’d hate for you to regret this.”</p><p>He’s daring me to turn him down. I am not falling for it, not again. Besides, I will not regret it. I have already forgotten the feel of his thin lips against mine, and the taste of black coffee in my mouth.  </p><p>“Afraid?” I ask him. He smirks.</p><p>“Never.” And he takes hold of my hand.</p>
<hr/><p>The moment Hubert walks away, a wave of exhaustion washes over me. I collapse against the wall, the very same one I had pressed him up against where he tasted like coffee and cinnamon, and if I lick my lips, I can still taste him.</p><p>It’s out of my system now. Surely. Even Dorothea agreed Hubert was objectively handsome, and that it was natural to feel pressured and excited by fervent whispers and close proximity. Now that it’s over with, I’ll never have to think of him again, except to hate him. Delightful. I’ll win that bet before I even notice the cinnamon and coffee leaving my mouth.</p><p>Hubert stops suddenly, and I realize I’ve been watching him go. He has a lovely back. He looks over his shoulder and catches my eyes.</p><p>I am Ferdinand von Aegir. And I am not afraid of Hubert von Vestra.</p><p>But I might be afraid of having feelings for him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Started my Black Eagles route, and whoo BOY do I ship these two. I haven't gotten to the timeskip yet, so I can't write the follow-up until I play more of the game and see their dynamic as adults. Hopefully that will be pretty soon, but who can say in this day and age. In the meantime, pray to the Goddess Sothis for Ferdinand.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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